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| At the top of the mountain, ready to jump into my own personal private wicker "toboggan" |
To get to the toboggan run requires getting oneself to the top of the mountain. And despite two massive cruise ships in Funchal harbor, it was a beautiful morning:
So many monuments in the Funchal downtown:
This one represents how just is both blind and hurtling over Niagara Falls in a barrel:
Well, at least that's the metaphor I took from it and I'm sticking with it. Soon I arrived at the cable car station:
Despite the cruise ships, the line was brief and soon we were being loaded into cable cars for the long trip up the mountainside:
What? You thought I was going to walk? The cable car point of embarking was like that "haunted mansion" ride at the Disneys Land and World: it never stops. You climb into a moving vehicle.
And soon we were being whisked up the mountainside for our wicker fate:
It was a long climb:
But soon the car arrived at a destination: Monte:
To the right, as you can see from the above sign, is a botanical garden with plants gathered from all over the world. It is supposed to be a wonderful site, if you are into gardens and plants and the like. But I like churches. And I like hurtling down mountainsides in wicker baskets:
Here are the wicker baskets all queued up. I came to the right place. But first:
I go to the church and pray:
That I live to see the end of my toboggan ride.
I pray to you, the Blessed Charles of Habsburg, to protect me. If I survive my wicker basket ride down the mountainside, it just might be the miracle you need to be promoted from beatification to full canonization. (Charles was the one good Habsburg. So they exiled him to Madeira. He's buried in this church.)
I stopped into a church I passed along the way:
You know I got down on my knees ... well, I didn't merely "pretend" to pray, as the Mamas and the Papas sing in their song I'm quoting.
Very nice church:
Ceiling:
It ain't the Sistene Chapel, but I liked it. Here's a happy dog laying out:
OK. So now is the time to ride a wicker basket down the mountainside:
The guys are dressed in white, so if they had had bloody accidents, you could see.
Oh. And I did I mention that there are cars and taxi cabs driving down this narrow steep streets at the same time you are hurtling down it in the wicker basket?
That'll add to the sense of exhilaration.
I took this selfie at the top of my toboggan run:
I fully expected the caption to be: last known photo.
UPDATED TO ADD: I lived.
And the ride? It was what you would expect, riding down a mountainside with cars and cabs, and you in a wicker basket on rails. It didn't just go straight. There was a minor "tilt-a-whirl" effect as the basket would spin a bit. (Not a full 360 degrees, thank God and the Blessed Charles of Habsburg.) I recommend it whenever you find yourself in Funchal, looking for fun.
So many monuments in the Funchal downtown:
This one represents how just is both blind and hurtling over Niagara Falls in a barrel:
Well, at least that's the metaphor I took from it and I'm sticking with it. Soon I arrived at the cable car station:
Despite the cruise ships, the line was brief and soon we were being loaded into cable cars for the long trip up the mountainside:
What? You thought I was going to walk? The cable car point of embarking was like that "haunted mansion" ride at the Disneys Land and World: it never stops. You climb into a moving vehicle.
And soon we were being whisked up the mountainside for our wicker fate:
It was a long climb:
But soon the car arrived at a destination: Monte:
Monte is a little village above the City of Funchal:
It has a church (Igreja do Monte). It has the start of the toboggan run. That's enough for me. To the left!
To the right, as you can see from the above sign, is a botanical garden with plants gathered from all over the world. It is supposed to be a wonderful site, if you are into gardens and plants and the like. But I like churches. And I like hurtling down mountainsides in wicker baskets:
Here are the wicker baskets all queued up. I came to the right place. But first:
I go to the church and pray:
That I live to see the end of my toboggan ride.
I pray to you, the Blessed Charles of Habsburg, to protect me. If I survive my wicker basket ride down the mountainside, it just might be the miracle you need to be promoted from beatification to full canonization. (Charles was the one good Habsburg. So they exiled him to Madeira. He's buried in this church.)
I stopped into a church I passed along the way:
You know I got down on my knees ... well, I didn't merely "pretend" to pray, as the Mamas and the Papas sing in their song I'm quoting.
Very nice church:
Ceiling:
It ain't the Sistene Chapel, but I liked it. Here's a happy dog laying out:
OK. So now is the time to ride a wicker basket down the mountainside:
The guys are dressed in white, so if they had had bloody accidents, you could see.
Oh. And I did I mention that there are cars and taxi cabs driving down this narrow steep streets at the same time you are hurtling down it in the wicker basket?
That'll add to the sense of exhilaration.
I fully expected the caption to be: last known photo.
UPDATED TO ADD: I lived.
And the ride? It was what you would expect, riding down a mountainside with cars and cabs, and you in a wicker basket on rails. It didn't just go straight. There was a minor "tilt-a-whirl" effect as the basket would spin a bit. (Not a full 360 degrees, thank God and the Blessed Charles of Habsburg.) I recommend it whenever you find yourself in Funchal, looking for fun.
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